


take a picture, it'll last longer

by snap_crackles (orphan_account)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Boys In Love, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Polyamory, it's 12 am and it's soft hours my guys, poly 97 Line, this is soft as heck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 02:34:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14728319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/snap_crackles
Summary: “You’re both beautiful.”-It starts with some clicks of a camera.-(Or: three times Seokmin, Mingyu and Minghao are in love, versus the one time Minghao sees love as an outsider looking in.)





	take a picture, it'll last longer

**Author's Note:**

> Me, on a rainy night and I can't go to sleep because my sad thoughts are racing: should I distract myself and write a fluffy gyuhao fic, or seokhao? Maybe I should try writing seokgyu? You know what, fuck it; let’s go poly! Seokgyuhao for the win!
> 
> My dudes, this is practically a 5k word vomit disguised as something possibly cute. Errors are probs abundant. But I hope you guys get some enjoyment from it (I know I did)! And now alas, I shall retire to my bed and hopefully my brain can shut up after it's little exercise.

**1.**

 

Mingyu doesn’t hold any expectations when he opens the bedroom door and flicks on the light.

For one thing, he’s exhausted.

Apparently people don’t know the meaning of _closing time_ , and tonight, it’s as if all the last-minute shoppers have organized themselves to stagger through the department store’s doors, despite the fact that lock-up was in ten minutes.

Apparently people don’t know how to fold clothes either, and lack the slightest amount of decency to put things on racks where they belong. If Mingyu’s being honest, it took everything in him to not strangle the first person he saw after picking up a scarf lying around on the changing room floor.

Instead of clocking out at 11:00 PM, Mingyu clocked out at 1:00 AM.

He’s pretty sure that he has experienced the equivalent of Hell on Earth.

So when Mingyu turns on the light of his bedroom, his eyelids heavily drooping as an after-effect of a long day juggling classes and work, he just about _loses_ it when he takes a step forward and _trips_ on an electrical cord.

He stumbles…socked feet stepping on scattered paper that rustles under his weight. Luckily, he catches himself before toppling over, and when he straightens his posture, he looks around at his current state of apocalypse.

In the process of tripping over the electrical cord, the hum of the fan has come to a stop. Textbooks and notebooks are laying around, open and scattered. Highlighters and pens litter across the carpet. Backpacks are a strewn out tripping hazard.

Mingyu flips a small, empty bottle over with a socked foot and finds that the canister is labeled as ‘body paint’.

He isn’t sure whether he’s more surprised or indignant. Perhaps he’s surprised, because usually he and his boyfriends aren’t messy. Or perhaps he’s indignant, because today he’s just _done_ with chaotic humans.

“I have useless boyfriends.” Mingyu whines to himself, bending down and picking up a few notebooks before going to a near-by desk and depositing them onto the table. Looking around, Mingyu tiredly sighs. Tomorrow, Minghao and Seokmin can clean up their damn mess, because he sure as hell isn’t doing it for them.

Stripping down to his boxer shorts, he tosses his day’s attire into the nearby laundry bin and makes his way to bed. The sight of his sleeping boyfriends are enough to make him stop in his tracks.

Seokmin, who was first facing him, had rolled over so that Mingyu now had a full view of Seokmin’s bare back.

And not an inch of tan skin is showing.

Instead, Mingyu stares at a human canvas. The aurora borealis is painted on Seokmin; hues of navy, violet, turquoise, and light blue blend on the young man’s upper back to form the expanse of Northern skies. White stars freckle across the explosion of cool-toned colors. Trees and mountain silhouettes line Seokmin’s lower back in black.

And just above the waistband of Seokmin’s boxer shorts are Minghao’s small initials in neon pink.

Just like that, Mingyu momentarily forgets that he’s tired. He lets his focus roam away from Seokmin’s back and he takes in Seokmin’s legs, which have tangled themselves with Minghao’s. Much to Mingyu’s amusement, Minghao has become the little spoon, the younger one’s fingers having wrapped themselves around Seokmin’s arm—the arm that holds Minghao close.

Usually it’s Seokmin that gets spooned the second they all climb into bed. Realistically, Mingyu knows that Minghao gets spooned too—it falls natural to everyone shifting around as they sleep, but still…Mingyu’s hardly ever awake to witness it.

And it’s _cute_. Minghao getting spooned is _cute_. Seokmin spooning Minghao is _cute_.

Mingyu wants to keep a picture of it in his pocket forever.

After Mingyu takes back his cell phone from the desk, he makes his way over to Minghao’s side of the bed and begins taking pictures from different angles.

It’s adorable really—how Minghao’s pretty lips are slightly parted, and how his soft hair falls over his eyes. When Mingyu lowers his phone and begins to review his pictures, he can’t help but let a little giggle escape.

“What’s so funny?” A groggy voice asks, and Mingyu’s attention shoots up to find Minghao squinting at him in confusion. “Is it morning already?”

Mingyu shakes his head. “Yeah, but it’s too early. Go back to sleep, Hao.”

“Yeah, yeah. Turn off the light, Gyu,” Minghao grunts, waving a dismissive arm and turning on his side so that Mingyu gets nothing but the view of Minghao’s back. Unlike Seokmin however, Minghao offers nothing to marvel at except for the sight of a baggy, violet hoodie. It takes a second for Mingyu to realize that it’s one of Seokmin’s old hoodies from high school—the ones that were distributed to all the choir kids.

There’s a bit of shifting, and Mingyu watches as Minghao snuggles close to Seokmin.

And it’s sweet. It melts Mingyu’s heart—to see the two people he loves so dearly soak in each other’s presence with such peace and vulnerability. It’s precious, and it leaves Mingyu aching.

Mingyu walks over to the foot of the bed and gets a nice shot of his boyfriends facing each other; their foreheads and the tips of their noses just barely touching. It’s an Instagram worthy post. All he needs to do is slap a warm-toned filter on it, and it’s ready to go.

‘Jeonghan and Joshua, kings of aesthetic-relationship-goals?’ Nah. Mingyu’s pretty sure that the title belongs to him and his boys.

The last picture Mingyu takes is of the Northern Lights on Seokmin’s back.

Placing his cell phone on the end table, Mingyu goes to shut off the bedroom light before crawling into bed at last. His exhaustion hits him again, and it feels good to just collapse onto the mattress.

He presses himself close against Seokmin’s back and lets his arm slide around Seokmin’s waist. His hands find fingers that are banded with cool metal, and Mingyu knows that he’s located Minghao’s rings.

Minghao’s hands respond to the touch, and soon the two young men’s fingers are interlaced. There’s quiet, and Mingyu finally lets his eyelids slide shut…

“I know you were taking pictures and shit,” Minghao grumbles, disrupting the peace, and Mingyu groans.

“Fucking hell, Hao!” Mingyu says with exasperation as he rolls over onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. When will the day end? He just wants to knock out into the next dimension… “I thought you were asleep!” He grouses with a hiss.

“You were standing across from me with your damn phone out, giggling like a child! I can connect the dots, Gyu. And did you really think I could properly sleep with your clumsy ass making so much noise? You tripped over the electrical cord! I know you, and the fact that the fan isn’t running anymore proves my point!” Minghao accuses, and Mingyu lets out a huff of disbelief.

“Oh, so it’s _my_ fault that you can’t sleep? Maybe if you and Minnie didn’t tear up the bedroom, my _clumsy ass_ wouldn’t have tripped!” There’s a pause and Mingyu grins triumphantly.

“Point taken,” Minghao grudgingly concedes. “I promise. I’ll clean it all up tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Hao.” Mingyu manages to say before letting out a big yawn.

“You came home late,” Minghao murmurs, gently this time. “Is everything okay at work?” Mingyu lets out a tiny hum, before returning to his position of spooning Seokmin. His fingers find Minghao’s again, and their hands interlock.

“Yeah. I’m just exhausted. Retail is awful. I’ll tell you more tomorrow, okay?” Mingyu yawns again, and Minghao chuckles.

“Technically it’s already tomorrow.”

“Can’t you let me live?” Mingyu whines, but he smiles at the sound of Minghao’s half-restrained snickers. “Maybe I just want to sleep through the whole day today because time is just a man-made construct, and I can wake up on tomorrow _tomorrow_ and pretend that it’s today.”

“You know what? I’m done talking with you. Just go the fuck to sleep, Gyu,” Minghao huffs with some amusement, and squeezes Mingyu’s hand—a nonverbal statement of his fondness. Mingyu returns the gesture.

“G’night Hao.” He pauses. “And I love you, asshole.”

“I love you too.”

 

* * *

 

 

**2.**

 

“Can I have the onions now?”

“I dunno. _Can_ _you?”_

There’s a dramatic sigh, and Seokmin giggles as he goes to retrieve the cutting board containing chopped onions.

“Fine.” Mingyu sighs. “Minnie, _may_ I _please_ have the onions now?”

“Of course, love.” Seokmin chirps happily as he returns to Mingyu’s side and offers the cutting board to his boyfriend. With a playful smirk, Seokmin presses a light kiss onto Mingyu’s cheek, and Mingyu hip-checks him to the side, making sure to playfully stick his tongue out in the process. The act has Seokmin beaming brightly.

“I love you, Gyu.”

“I love you too, Minnie.”

“I’m awake for like…three minutes and life is already too sappy for my liking.” A voice gripes; tone still thick with sleep. Seokmin and Mingyu turn to look at Minghao who has entered the kitchen—the younger of the three sleepily blinking at them with a frown on his face. “I think I might go back to bed.”

“Well good morning to you too.” Mingyu snorts, rolling his eyes and returning his attention to the stove. “Someone clearly woke up on the wrong side of the matress.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’d like to fuck you too, but maybe later when you’re more awake and less grouchy.” Mingyu jokes, before looking over at Minghao who’s sipping from a mug of coffee that’s been prepared for him by Seokmin. Seokmin, who’s opted to sit on the countertop, watches the exchange with amusement.

Minghao narrows his eyes as he settles to lean against the counter, in front of Seokmin who has now snaked his legs around Minghao’s form.

“Don’t be fake.” Minghao huffs, setting down his coffee and crossing his arms. “You like it on the occasions that I get rough and dominant!”

“Grouchy does not equal rough and dominant.” Mingyu corrects, “Although someone rough and dominant can be grouchy.”

“I’m not trying to be deep here, Gyu.” Minghao sighs, rubbing at his eyes.

Seokmin lets out a snort as he wraps his arms tightly around Minghao’s torso and hides his face in Minghao’s hair. His smile widens when he hears Minghao make a small noise of distress, but nonetheless, latches onto Seokmin’s hold. Minghao’s head shifts, and Seokmin finds himself staring at Minghao’s side profile.

“You’re clingy this morning.” Minghao says lightly, tossing the statement over his shoulder.

“Should I not be so clingy then?” Seokmin asks mildly. He allows his limbs to unwrap from Minghao, and the young man in question turns around so that they fully face each other. Minghao then takes Seokmin’s hands, and Seokmin wraps his legs around Minghao once again.

“No, it’s fine; I like it when you’re clingy.”

There’s a gagging noise from the stove; Mingyu watches them with an insulted look on his face.

“Look who’s being fake now!” Mingyu crows out, and both Seokmin and Minghao snicker. “Look at you, being all _sappy_ and _domestic_! Get the fuck out of my kitchen with your fake hoe ass!”

“ _Your_ kitchen? _Bitch, we live here too!_ ” Minghao retorts, but never relinquishing his hold on Seokmin’s hands. He furrows his eyebrows for effect, and Mingyu is the first to crack between the two—having to look away to hide his smile.

“Don’t be jealous.” Seokmin playfully teases. “Minghao likes being soft with me. It’s a fact of life. Deal with it.”

“Deal with it.” Minghao echoes, laughter just barely concealed near the surface of his tone.

Mingyu looks back at them, incredulous.

“Jealous? You’re both nuts.” Mingyu rolls his eyes fondly, turning off stove. It’s then when Minghao pries himself from Seokmin’s hold.

Seokmin curiously watches as Boyfriend One approaches Boyfriend Two.

Minghao places himself behind Mingyu and gives the taller male a hug from behind. The action hardly startles Mingyu, who looks over his shoulder with a knowing expression on his face. He freezes momentarily in place with a plate of scrambled eggs in his hands.

“I’m hugging you now. Better?” Minghao asks grudgingly, but the soft smile he shoots at Seokmin betrays his tone.

“You’re still fake.” Mingyu mumbles, but he’s grinning too, and Seokmin’s heart bursts with adoration for these two men.

 Mingyu puts down the plate of freshly prepared food and turns around to capture Minghao’s hands with his own. For a moment, the two just stand there, giggling, gently swinging their arms together, and to Seokmin, they look so young and carefree.

A naive part of him yearns to keep it like this. Keep _them_ like this. Keep _each other_ like this…

Forever twenty-two.

And then Mingyu is spinning Minghao—and Seokmin continues to watch; Minghao twirling gracefully, and Mingyu looking down with so much _love_.

And the sight hurts, but in the best way possible.

Seokmin hops off the counter and walks over to the breakfast bar where the stereo is placed. He turns it on and adjusts the volume slightly. A commercial on the radio-station had just finished winding down, and soon the sounds of a guitar fill the room.

It’s “Beast of Burden” by the Rolling Stones, and Seokmin can’t help but think how it’s a fitting song to playfully slow dance to in the kitchen, at 10:30 in the morning, still clad in your ratty tee-shirt and boxer shorts, hair a mess, but none of that matters when you’re dancing with the other person you love.

He peers over to Mingyu and Minghao, their foreheads are bumped together; the both of them just gently swaying along to the song, and it’s sweet, and Seokmin is filled with happiness.

He walks over to the island counter to pick up his cell phone, unlocks the screen, and opens his camera app. Mingyu and Minghao both take turns to shoot a questioning gaze his way, but never long enough to fully distract themselves from each other.

And Seokmin takes pictures, because this is a moment he doesn’t ever want to forget. Perhaps it’s a small memory, but it’s a sweet one at that, and it’s _precious_ , and he treasures it with all his heart.

“Minnie, put your phone down.” Mingyu finally sighs, but his tone is endeared. “Come join us, yeah?”

Seokmin looks up, having been interrupted from reviewing his pictures and finds that Mingyu and Minghao stand there, watching him with gentle and fond expressions; Mingyu has an arm around Minghao’s waist, and Minghao’s got his arms loosely around Mingyu, and _okay_ , yeah—Seokmin totally wants in on the fun too.

Seokmin puts down his phone and his two boyfriends welcome him into the fold, pulling him in so that he’s in the middle.

Their movements are awkward after that, with Minghao clinging to Seokmin from behind (almost koala-like); his laughter muffled into the material of Seokmin’s shirt. And Seokmin is giggling too as he and Mingyu face each other, their bodies in close proximity, swaying slightly out of synch because Seokmin’s body is also responsible for leading Minghao’s movement.

And Mingyu…Mingyu’s shoulders are shaking with amusement because he loves these two fools with all his heart.

And the three dance there for another two songs; dressed in their baggy tee-shirts and boxer shorts, hair still mussed from a long night’s sleep, their breakfast sitting on the countertop, momentarily forgotten.

 

* * *

 

 

**3.**

 

“You’re stressed.”

“No fucking shit. Congrats Sherlock, you wanna cookie?”

“No need to be rude.”

Minghao sighs and slams down the pen in his hand. He rubs tiredly at his face before looking up to find Mingyu standing there, arms crossed, eyebrows raised in a way to show that he isn’t impressed or willing to put up with this shit. Minghao licks at his lips which suddenly feel dry.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles, running fingers through his hair. He feels his nails scrape against his scalp. “I don’t mean to snap.”

And he means it. Minghao knows that taking his frustrations out on Mingyu isn’t right. He gives Mingyu an apologetic smile, but it crumbles and twists into a frown. Mingyu’s expression softens into something sympathetic.

“I know.” Mingyu looks down at the mess of notebook paper on the table. Some of the sheets are crumpled up; other papers have paragraphs of text all scratched out. “You could just send a postcard.” He reasons. “Just send them a small season’s greetings card that says Merry Christmas or something and call it done.”

The laugh Minghao replies with is devoid of humor.

“They’re my parents, Gyu.” Minghao answers with a strained tone. “They brought me into this world and raised me with love for 18 years of my life.”

“And they shouldn’t have stopped at 18 years just because you’re in a relationship with two men.” Mingyu counters back; not unkindly, but not without a tone of finality either. The look Minghao shoots him is resigned.

“I know that too.”  Minghao looks down at his lap dejectedly. It’s been five years… “You’re right.”

He hears the sound of chair legs being dragged against the linoleum floor—can sense the chair being placed beside him…can sense Mingyu sitting down on the chair, and then he sees Mingyu’s foot gently tap at his own foot.

“Hey, Hao. Look at me.” Mingyu quietly states, and Minghao looks up to find Mingyu staring at him attentively. Patiently. “What’s on your mind?”

Minghao looks away and huffs.

“I just…” When he turns back to face Mingyu, he sees Seokmin over his boyfriend’s shoulder, the other young man entering the kitchen with an expression just as concerned.

“I just miss them.” Minghao finishes lamely. “I thought it’d get better with time, but it hasn’t.” He can feel tears sting, and he blinks, hoping that they won’t fall. “I want them back in my life. I wish they were still here with me, to offer guidance…to watch me become an adult; something I knew they’ve always wanted…Something that _I_ want…to just, I dunno—know that they’re still proud?” A self-deprecating laugh bubbles from the depths of his stomach. “At least, that would be the _ideal_ concept, ya’ know?

“…And instead, their only child that they were so proud of went rogue. Became a starving artist for a living with a job that can barely keep up with the student loans...”

Mingyu and Seokmin simultaneously make noises of protest, interrupting Minghao before Minghao can continue with his train of thought.

“You’re not a _rogue!”_ Mingyu admonishes. “Sure you broke whatever’s conventional, but conventional is _overrated_ anyway, and you’re always on about following your dreams, being happy, and doing what you love— _loving_ what you love! What’s your little catchphrase? _Infinite possibilities_ , right?”

“God, I know, Gyu!” Minghao raises his voice before biting his lip and in a more quiet tone says, “I know.”

There’s a pause, and then Seokmin speaks, a bit softly and a bit hesitantly.

“You are happy though, aren’t you?” Seokmin’s eyes are questioning, and he looks so sad—as if the idea of Minghao confessing unhappiness would shatter him.

The question makes Minghao’s eyes widen.

“Yes! Oh my God, Seokmin—” Minghao breaks off, suddenly not knowing how else to form words. “I am happy. I’m so happy. _You both make me so happy_.” Minghao puts so much emphasis on his last sentence, wanting to make them see that he is happy; there’s just something that feels...off.

He stands up and begins to pace. “I guess it’s just really selfish— _I’m_ _really selfish;_ with the desire to want everything. And it’s hard—reconnecting with people you care about after deliberately giving each other space for so long. There’s just this complicated conflict there you know—where there isn’t hate, but there isn’t exactly rainbows and butterflies…It’s like…there’s a tiny voice that makes you wonder if they still _care_. And then there’s another thought that’s unsure if it’s worth the attempt to try, but the idea of not trying to reach out hurts too.” He stops pacing and looks back at the men he loves dearly.

The desperation must show on his face, because Seokmin is walking towards him now with arms wide open, and Mingyu is getting up and following Seokmin’s lead.

And Minghao…Minghao meets Seokmin half-way and just collapses into Seokmin’s hold. He feels Seokmin’s arms wrap tightly around him, and hears Seokmin murmur the words ‘ _I love you’_ a dozen times into his hair. And then he feels Mingyu’s solid presence behind him.

Minghao is now sandwiched in-between the two loves and lights of his life, and their touch and words are like a soothing balm to a painful throbbing in his chest.

“Are you sure reconnecting with your parents are a good idea?” Mingyu asks; his tone neutral as he presses his lips on top of Minghao’s head. “In my point of view, if you’re stressing about it now, maybe it’s not the right time.”

“No, I wanna do it.” Minghao insists. “I’ve had so much time already. I’m done running from it. And if they never respond or if they say it’s over, well then…I guess it’s over. I’ll move on.” The admission feels like the final nail being hammered in the coffin, and Minghao swallows.

“Do you want help with your letter then?” Seokmin offers kindly, being the first to peel away from Minghao, Mingyu following, but they continue to remain close. “Gyu and I can help you write it. It won’t be as stressful that way.”

“Absolutely!” Mingyu chimes in cheerfully. “I don’t mind helping.”

Minghao weakly smiles as Mingyu wraps arms around his shoulders from behind.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

 

They end up sending a letter with two photos.

One photo is a picture of Minghao at his desk at work, busily sorting through possible photos to use for one of the articles in the city’s magazine. The picture was taken by one of the magazine writers, Wonwoo, who was toying around with Minghao’s camera at the time.

The other photo is of Seokmin, Mingyu, and Minghao at the beach. Mingyu and Minghao are burying Seokmin in the sand—the three of them laughing at something funny that must’ve been said. The back of the photo is the caption: _‘Soaking up the Sun! Taken by Junnie. July 2020’_

((“We have plenty of pictures.” Seokmin had reasoned when he saw doubt flicker on Minghao’s face. “If they don’t like it, they can hide it somewhere and forget it exists, or they can send it back. Whatever. But it’d be nice to at least give them the chance to see how you’re doing. If you’re gonna reach out, you might as well go the whole way, right?”))

And a month later, Minghao _does_ receive a letter back.

It contains warm words. The handwriting is his mother’s and the ink is smudged in some places where tears must have fallen.

It all works out for the best. And Minghao is thankful; extremely thankful towards the two men who beam at him from the kitchen table as they attentively watch him read the letter out loud.

He loves them so much.

 

* * *

 

**0.**

 

It starts with some clicks of a camera…

The coffee shop is a quaint little setting in the corner of Coreopsis Avenue. Outside the building are flower beds that follow the walkway all the way up to the shop’s door. The interior of the café is warm and inviting—natural light from outside spills into the open space. There are pleather sofas the color of pale orange, brightly popping in contrast to the tones of dark brown wooden flooring and wall panels.  The building is filled with the pleasant aroma of espresso and baked goods.

It’s four in the afternoon on a Friday, and Minghao has a table to himself in the far corner of the café.

He has his laptop out and running; the battery icon on the bottom right of his screen obnoxiously flashing, signaling him that it’s going to power down soon.

He has a manila folder laid out and open in front of him. In the folder are several photos taken in black-and-white of fellow students from his high school.

Xu Minghao is sixteen, a third year, and today he’s working on his first serious assignment for photography class: to capture natural human emotion.

So far, he has the emotions of pride, passion, excitement and happiness in his portfolio.

_Four emotions down, twelve more to go._ Minghao takes a sip from his latte.

The shop’s door opens and the little bell that hangs above chimes, causing Minghao to instinctively look up.

He knows these boys.

Lee Seokmin and Kim Mingyu. They go to his school, and they’re both in his graduating class.

He feels his cheeks warm.

He knows Seokmin. They’ve shared a history class together last year. They weren’t exactly close _friends_ , but they got along well, and have helped each other on their numerous history reports.

He also knows Mingyu. They’ve shared the same art class back in freshman year. They didn’t talk much, but Minghao remembers butting heads with Mingyu over color theory.

The two glance around for a table, and when Seokmin spots Minghao they boy’s facial expression brightens as he offers Minghao an enthusiastic wave.

Minghao waves back and offers a tiny grin of his own. The other boy, Mingyu, watches the exchange with curiosity before shooting Minghao an uncertain smile; his head is slightly tilted to the side, as if he recognizes Minghao, but can’t for the life of him remember who Minghao is.

Minghao watches as Mingyu takes Seokmin by the hand and leads them to a table on the opposite side of the building, closer to the windows where the most light is flooding in. And then he gently pecks Seokmin on the cheek.

_Oh._

Minghao looks back down and sips at his latte. He’s not sure why his heart beats fast or why he’s embarrassed. He’s pretty sure his old crushes on them have long died, and he has no intentions of reviving them again. Today was a chance encounter, and he’s pretty sure their chances of crossing paths after today are slim, unless they miraculously share classes again next year.

Still, he can’t help but look back up, and when he does, he finds Seokmin and Mingyu sitting across from each other, chatting.

Minghao doesn’t want to be nosy. Truly. Yet the way they lean forward, completely attentive to one another and nothing else, is captivating. There’s something innocent about it—the way Seokmin’s eyes are wide; how his eyebrows accentuate every open and honest expression he makes.

And then Seokmin smiles—the smile that Minghao’s seen countless of times last year when they shared class. It’s the eyesmile that has the corners of Seokmin’s eyes crinkling. And then Seokmin lifts a hand up, and Mingyu raises his own to catch it.

And _this_ , Minghao knows, is _love_. Maybe it’s young love…naïve love… but its love.

He blushes and turns his attention back to his screen. It feels voyeuristic now, to watch them in an act of something pure yet intimate. Trying to distract himself, he goes into his bookmarked pages and clicks on the link that opens up camera listings on Amazon.

After mindlessly scrolling for almost ten minutes, someone taps on the table and Minghao startles, looking to find Mingyu and Seokmin grinning down at him.

“Hey, Hao!” Seokmin cheerily greets. “I haven’t seen you around in a while! How are you?”

Minghao offers a gentle smile of his own.

“I’m doing alright. I’m working on a photography project right now.”

“Oh, interesting.” Seokmin wiggles his eyebrows playfully. “Is that your portfolio?”

“Yeah man.”

“Can we look?”

“Go for it.”

Minghao tries to casually wait as Seokmin and Mingyu flip through the small progress of work he does have. They occasionally point and make a few comments of praise.

“Hao, these are actually really good!” Seokmin states, and Mingyu hums in agreement.

“I remember you now,” Mingyu says, a small grin playing at his lips. “We had art together in freshman year. I don’t think we spoke much. We sat in different group tables, but I think you chewed me out during lecture on the concept of color theory.”

“I’ve matured since then,” Minghao quickly responds without much thought, and both Mingyu and Seokmin laugh.

“So um. Could you maybe take some pictures of us then?” Seokmin asks, doing a terrible job of hiding the hope in his voice. “And like, have it developed and everything? I mean, yeah, we could take selfies or have you take a picture for us on our phones, but I think having an actual photo like yours would be pretty neat.”

“I’d be flattered,” Minghao grins, before reaching to the seat beside him for his backpack. He rummages around for his camera case, and both Mingyu and Seokmin begin to look for a place to pose.

“I think your table would actually be better in terms of lighting,” Minghao suggests, taking his camera out of the case and turning the device on.

When they settle at Mingyu’s and Seokmin’s table, the two smile at the camera, which makes Minghao lower the camera and roll his eyes.

“Don’t smile at me.” He instructs, and Mingyu raises an amused eyebrow. “Just do your thing,” Minghao clarifies. “I’m trying to give you a picture that looks natural. Pretend I’m not here. Forget that I’m here,” He raises his camera again as Seokmin and Mingyu turn to face each other.

There’s a pause. And then Seokmin lets out a snicker, which makes Mingyu giggle, and soon they’re reaching for each other’s hands, the both of them laughing at nothing. The scene is no longer a composed act. It’s just two boys; happy and in love, and Minghao’s pretty sure that right now, they’ve let their surroundings melt away.

Minghao tries different angles and clicks away at the shots he thinks looks best. He’s in the middle of taking the fourth photo when he realizes that he’s smiling along with them too.

And he lowers the camera. The sunlight coming in through the windows basks the couple in a warm, golden glow; softening their features and highlighting youth. It catches in their dark hair, making it shine in coppery red.

It doesn’t hit him that he’s openly staring, and when Seokmin turns to look at him, his eyebrows pull together in concern.

“You okay Hao?” Seokmin asks gently, and Mingyu turns to look out the window to see if it was anything outside that had captured Minghao’s attention. Minghao nods.

“Yeah.” He lifts up his camera once again, before lowering it down and biting his lower lip. To hell with it. He’s pretty sure professional photographers have no problems when it comes to praising their subjects.

Seokmin and Mingyu are staring at him now, curiously waiting for him to say something.

“You’re both beautiful.”

It’s a simple statement that’s met with slow-growing smiles, and for right now it doesn’t mean too much. But it starts a friendship between a boy and two lovers—a friendship that kindles into something sweeter over the years.

 


End file.
